She hadn’t known what to expect, but a manly man like Roland Smith living in such a tasteful, Victorian-styled home was a surprise. The decadent Persian rugs, heavy drapes, crown moldings, carved furniture … This had to be Kinley. While she became famous for being a reality TV star, she was from old money. She’d built a home from deep pockets and infinite taste.

Angel tried to regroup. This is not just about money. I am outclassed. Way outclassed. She’d spent too much time in Gabriela’s salon, looking at fashion magazines and gossip rags. She recognized the faces and the designer clothes filling the room.

With a hand at her elbow, Duke led her into the fray. He was not walking with any sign of a limp, but his pace was slow and controlled. She, on the other hand, suddenly felt gangly and awkward, clumping along like an oaf, while the women and men cluttering the floor oozed sophistication, comfortable in their skin, in their wealth, in their moneyed cliques. Women, with smooth, long hair and perfectly shaped bodies poured into Armani and Versace and Cavalli, flicked glances toward Duke and smiled, their eyes gliding right over Angel. She wasn’t there.

“You came!”

Kinley Smith placed herself in front of Angel, her tawny beige skin flawless against a blue strapless Elie Saab haute couture dress, set off by an amazing diamond-and-sapphire harness, diamond hoop earrings, and silver Giuseppe Zanotti heels. Angel blinked in surprise. She’s so beautiful, I can barely look at her.

Towering behind the smiling hostess was Roland, the recently retired Bronx Bolt, complementing his wife in his shiny navy Prada suit. He clapped Duke on the shoulder. “’Bout time you showed up.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you!” Kinley grasped Angel’s arms and gave her a squeeze, which rendered Angel mute. “You’re an absolute doll. What would you like to drink? Roland, would you grab us a couple of glasses of champagne? That’s a good place to start. Angel … Is that right? Angel? Oh my God, I love that name.”

“Come on, babe, give the girl some room.” Roland put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and reached out a hand to Angel. “Nice to meet you.”

Angel shook the hand of the famous Bronx Bolt first baseman. “Hi,” she said weakly. I can’t believe I’m hanging out with people I’ve seen on TV. Not just serving them drinks. And … ohh M G, isn’t that the guy from Everybody Hates Chris?

“Kinley,” said Duke, hugging the reality show star. “Thanks for the invite. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Roland doesn’t want to go out anymore. He’s getting lazy in his retirement.”

“Whoa, speak for yourself. Yo’ man got game, whether he on the field or not.” Roland cupped her ass. “I was rockin’ your world this morning, if I remember correctly.”